<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>In All the Madness by Adila_Grasher20</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168737">In All the Madness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adila_Grasher20/pseuds/Adila_Grasher20'>Adila_Grasher20</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Alice In Wonderland - Lewis Carroll, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alice in Wonderland References, F/M, Other, christian - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 13:34:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,338</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23168737</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adila_Grasher20/pseuds/Adila_Grasher20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A group of friends has nightmares, unbeknownst to each other they are having them. Nightmares that seem too real, but if these nightmares are real then what is this life they call theirs. And if this life is the real-life, then what is the life they see in their dreams. </p><p>This world is in many ways like our own, but something else exists. Something none of them know about, but those who do, don't remember by morning. This world has demons and assassins on a spiritual level, therefore no one can see them. But we can</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Male Character</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The description is confusing I know, I'm sorry. But to be fair this is my first time writing on this site I'm getting used to this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being a senior in high school has its ups and downs, but a party held at Milly Brown's house is on the "up" side. Whether I'm a friend of Milly's is out of the question, she and I have an unspoken agreement to stay as acquaintances with the stoic expression she gives me. However, her coming up to me after lunch is not how I expected to start being her friend. Now here she is, in front of me, with an envelope in her hand. What is in it, I wonder as she approaches me with a confident grin on her face. </p><p>"Hey, Alex!" She knows that's not my preferred nickname. "I have something for you. Don't get too excited, okay." </p><p>After handing me the envelope, she strides off with an extra pop in her step. My eyes turn their attention back to the white sheathe that protected its contents with its life. I tear the sealed flap off with an ire fueled by curiosity. The beige-colored, laminated paper inside had the letters "you're invited" in bold and a picture of Milly underneath them. A date and location were just underneath the picture. I recognize the place to be the lake-side villa, one of Milly's family houses she would keep talking about on any occasion. </p><p>Did I just get invited to one of Milly's parties? I thought to myself as I look at the paper in unbelief. Had I just imagined that? Well, she did go up to me, but that doesn't explain all those years of complete silence. I overthink everything, but this is insane, nobody can tell me otherwise. Heck, they'll probably agree with me. </p><p>As I look up from the invite, I see that my best friend, Daisy Mclane, coming towards me with a white envelope in her hand. Ah, she got the same invite.</p><p>"Hey Lexi, you'll never guess who gave this to me." She says holding up the envelope. </p><p>"Milly?" was my short answer. But I guess it was right if the shocked look she had was anything to go by. "Are you going?" I asked hopefully.</p><p>"I don't know. It could be a trick." She now had sorrow on her face.</p><p>"Or," I start, "it could be a chance for us to witness to her. After all, isn't that what you told me our first year." The teasing tone was evident in my voice. </p><p>"I know. But that was then, this is now. And 'now' me says that she's up to something." She goes onto a monologue of three years past. Saying how Milly 'used' to be and not how she is now. She's grown.</p><p>"But 'now' you is more confident in her faith than when she was in first year. We were practically babies then." It's true, we were babies back then. Back then we both had just enough faith to get us through Junior High, but now we soaring on the wings of eagles. </p><p>"Right, says the one who has enough faith to take her to the moon and back." She sighs and rolls her head. Don't we both have enough faith to take us to the moon and back, she grew up with me, she got saved with me, we got baptized with each other. Doesn't that mean something to her? Or is she saying that she doesn't have her faith anymore? I question in my head while she pastes a guilty smile on her face and apologizes. "Sorry, that isn't what I meant to say. What I mean is that maybe we should just drop the subject, okay?"<br/>
"Okay." I say as we go into our next class, Creative Writing. It's an enjoyable class but it's a little difficult with all the assignments. I do plan on being a writer someday. Daisy took this class because she didn't want to be waiting for another hour to get picked up by my parents. Her mom doesn't trust the school's bus system and she sure doesn't trust her walking home alone. So, My mom and dad told her mom that they were able to pick her up with me after school. Her mom works a full-time job after her dad left her mom and herself for another woman when Daisy was ten. The little jig she and I danced after being given the okay was embarrassing looking back on it, but wholesome and pure. Nothing in the world could have mattered to us then. But now, with the weight of time, we are constantly looking over our shoulders, constantly feeling like everybody's looking at us. Constantly afraid of what the world thinks. Which is why I think this little party would be good for us. I think that if we have some fresh air and no distractions of the world around us constantly, then we might be able to get some prime time with God and ourselves done. And it's just for the weekend, not like it'll kill us. </p><p>Maybe it won't. You can never be too sure. Too careful. A sly sounding voice inside my head says to me while a ringing in my ears starts out of nowhere. It hurt. Why does it hurt? Is there something I should be paying attention to? I ask myself as I put my fingers in my ears, hoping, praying that it would help. It didn't. It wasn't until a gentle hand landed on my shoulder that the ringing had finally stopped. I look up to Daisy with a curious and troubled look. </p><p>"Are you alright?" She asks, "You look pale." </p><p>Am I pale? If anything, I feel flushed. "Sorry, just a ringing in my ear." I say as I drop my hand to my side. She looks at me with a look that my mother would give me but drops it as I walk past her into our class. Maybe this weekend party would be a good thing for my health, too.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Hallway Pass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>When hearing voices in your head doesn't count as a 'proper' excuse for being sick and going home. But passing out, almost getting a concussion is.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having finished class, we find my mother's car in the parking lot outside the school. When we get inside the car my mom, Carolina Peters, asks us how our day went.<br/>"Milly Brown gave us an invitation to the senior party her family is hosting at their lake villa." Daisy says with a bored expression, face turned to the window. I'm not sure if she's looking at anything outside. <br/>"Oh! Are you both going to it?" At this, I realize what I've always known, my mom is super lax. Any normal parent would have yelled "NO! going to that party!" But my mom isn't normal, apparently. <br/>"Are you okay with me going? It is for a weekend." I say to let her know what she's agreeing to. But she just nods her head. <br/>" As long as Daisy goes with you." She says with a smile that speaks volumes. Specifically, for Daisy to go, she needs to get permission from her mother, who has been diagnosed with overprotective parent syndrome. By me... and Daisy.<br/>"Oh, that'll go well." Daisy's voice is dripping with sarcasm. <br/>By then we're at the Peters residents, there we'll stay playing games, eating snacks, and doing homework until we hear a knock at the door. At this time, we're on the couch watching Disney movies while finishing the creative writing poem we had to create. When Diane Mclane comes into the living room we're almost packed up for the night. I whisper into Daisy's ear, "Don't forget to ask her if we can go to the party." She nods her head and we follow her mother out the door where Daisy and I say our goodnights' and she leave with a sullen face. An expression she's had all day.<br/>My mother and I go back inside the house and I head up to my room, get dressed for bed and climb into my glorified "sleeping chamber". As I go to turn off my light, there's a knock at my door. Upon answering it I my mother in her pajama’s as well. </p><p>“Hey, I wanted to know how you’re doing, it seems like your down when I picked you and Daisy up from school.” She says as she walks into my room and sits down on my bed. </p><p>“I’m not the one distraught. It’s Daisy, she said something that isn’t like her.” My face turns sullen. Her face twists with concern as I relay the day’s dilemma. </p><p>“Perhaps she needs a little time to fix things up. She could be nearing her cycle and is going through a mood swing.” She lists the possibilities as they come up. “You simply need to be patient with her.” She pulls me into a hug, but it’s not comfortable at the moment. More like an awkward hug that high school friends share as adults who are married and have children, neither side is comfortable in the embrace. </p><p>I thought that was what I was doing. Mom turns off the light as she leaves the room. I’m sitting atop my covers unsure I can fall asleep after that conversation. </p><p>You shouldn’t concern yourself with other people’s problems, not when you have your own to take care of. The voice in my head talks like a real person. The ringing in my ear starts up again. An image of a person I don’t recognize comes into my mind. I open my eyes I didn’t realize were closed, to see my vision get dark. Thinking I was just tired, I climbed under the sheets and closed my eyes. Let the day’s troubles wash away with the blood of the sinners. Let me take the burden of murder. </p><p>____________________________________________________________</p><p>The next day, I wake up slightly sore. I roll my head as I sit up with my feet touching the floor. I stand up shakily and walk up to my dresser. I pick out some black, flowing pants, a grey shirt that says “I bee-leaf in you” with a bee on a leaf of a flower. I get dressed and look in the mirror, I look tired, pale. I look down at my feet and wobble. That isn’t good. I think to myself as I go into the bathroom and put on some concealer and eye shadow. My short black hair goes into a headband that leaves a little bit of fabric draping down. By then I smell breakfast, I turn off the bathroom light and head downstairs.</p><p> After eating breakfast, we head off to school, as I’m dropped off by my father, I see Daisy. She’s in her favorite white, lacey blouse with some flowers along the bottom. Along with her hair tied up in a hair bow that she mastered the first time she tried it, and the cutest jean crop pants that was on clearance at the Goodwill. She has the brightest smile 	on her face, a complete contrast from yesterday. She bounces up to me, a brighter shine finds itself onto her face. </p><p>“Hey Lexi!” She shouts and pulls me into a bear hug. “I’m sorry for yesterday, I didn’t feel like myself.” She pulls back and smiles at me. Being around the same height with each other, I was looking straight into her hazel green eyes that were filled with happiness. </p><p>“Calm down, I forgive you. But I want to know, why did you act like that?” We’re walking to our first class. She just shakes her head from side to side not giving me a straight answer but a knowing smirk. </p><p>“I got mom’s permission to go to the weekend party.” She avoided the subject. “It took some convincing but I finally got. We just have to stay together and bring Clyde.” </p><p>Ah, there’s the exception. No wonder Mrs. Mclane said yes. “Well, now we just have another person to ask.”</p><p>“I don’t think his mom will say yes. His dad might but not his mom.” She adds the last part in quickly. “Maybe we can meet him for lunch, or text him.” </p><p>“Text who?” A new voice quips behind us, startling us out of our thoughts. Lo and behold there stands Clyde Powl, a boy that befriended Daisy and I at the beginning of high school. “Well don’t stand there looking like you just saw a ghost, bring it in.” He says as he opens his arms wide for a hug. Daisy and I look at each other and then back at him before giving in and going into his arms together.</p><p> “Well it’s your fault for startling us.” Daisy says, her voice muffled by his clothes. “You did sneak up on us.” He lets go of us and we step back, finally getting a good look at him. He’s in a plain white sleeveless hoodie showing off his basketball arms, a pair khaki pants and brown sandals. The outfit paired with his natural olive skin and 6’3’’ height makes one’s eyes tend to wander to him. He knows he’s good looking but he won’t boast about it, he’s an eighteen-year-old Christian. </p><p>“Any who, who are we talking about?” He looks at Daisy with a sly smirk. “Your boyfriend?” Daisy pouts and turns her head away from him. She didn’t have a boyfriend; her mother wouldn’t allow it. But she does like someone, in fact she’s liked him since the first day we met him. </p><p>In no time, we’re heading down the hall to go to lunch. You should be careful of who you make friends with, they may not turn out to be who you expect them to be. A familiar ringing resounds in my ear again, but it leaves as soon as it came. But I’m now facing the ceiling, with a pain on the back of my head.</p><p>“Lexi! Lexi! Are you okay? You suddenly fell. Clyde go get the nurse.” Daisy screams alerting the entire cafeteria</p><p>“I have a faster idea.” He says picking me up in a bridal style. This day is very weird. I think as the world gets dark. </p><p>Yes, you need rest, your life is short live it well.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>